It's a political party, it's the oil business, it's aerospace, it's the CIA, it's DOD, but it's not superman.

8.23.2010

Three

"We've gone from debates over privatizing the public sector to big steps toward governmentalizing the private sector...more public money in the private economy, more rules to shape how the private sector behaves, and more citizen expectations that government will manage the risks we face. The problem? We're making it up as we go along, and we're not sure where we're going." [my emphasis]

-- Donald F. Kettl, Government Executive, February, 2009

"We may well wonder, in view of the precedents now established, whether constitutional government as hitherto maintained in this Republic could survive another great war even victoriously waged."

Don't miss my will, greedy nutcases, now posted (again) as Last Rights, dated 08.18.10, but just up with great difficulty this evening. Can you spell h-a-c-k-e-r?

I can impress the hip hop set with almost, but not quite, seeing Grandmaster Flash, who was a regular at the Upstate New York bar where I was almost murdered, not once, but three times. For the record, attempts #1 & #3 took place out of "420," and #2 the apropos address of "#6 The Byway."

HAUNT MURDER ATTEMPT #1

When drinking with a lightweight, the "target" tends to go home early, and that's about all there was to this one. "Warren," like "Warren Commission," like "Warren" County, Missouri, Like "Warren-ton," Missouri, like "Warren," the real boyfriend of one too good looking to be true, "Let's go Bill...gotta go," companion of mine for the Stayin' Alive B-g's Year of Our Lord 1977. Upon arrival home, K was snoozing and P absent. Duh.

HAUNT MURDER ATTEMPT #2

The "Environmental Man" could tip a few more than "Warren," but, oh my! How about that quick "live or die" assessment with "MIMI," and you've dared to rub my nose in doo-doo with a "Mimi's Restaurant" in Thousand Oaks, along with LESLIE'S, ERIC'S, CARL'S, JO ANN'S RALPH'S, and all the gang? Hey, I came up with the concept of Eggs n' Things in 1972, only it was supposed to be called, "The Good Egg." Thieves! Mafia! Mafia Town! Help, Mr. Policeman! Oh, he's sleeping under a tree, whatever that means to rotten spies. What is a "Rolling Oak?" When I get a movie deal, I'm asking the "T.O." City Attorney, in court, along with covering a lot of other "issues." Is there a "Rolling Maple?" No, but the Canadian border security guys said, "What is that stuff for? Answer the question, or you're under arrest!" Gosh, I can think fast on my feet--like a politician, Ding-Dong. Look for a new, improved, Rambo-esqe Hughes at the door of Mimi's if there is no due process or media time soon (cough, cough). I remember bragging on being "hit on" by really beautiful women that night at the Haunt, but I was driving an old car at near-minimum wage, even though employed at an Ivy League University. Hit-ing on me? That's a hint, son.

HAUNT MURDER ATTEMPT #3

This one was classic Hughes. "Let's go out to the Haunt," he said, to the USAF girl. At the bar, the band I was trying to interview for the weekly hipster newspaper practically said, through the PA after the first set, "Don't talk to us, Hughes, you're going to get your ass killed!" Thanks. I told my "date" I was worried that no one was home, since spies refuse to lock doors, because, of course, if the "enemy" wants to come in, they are coming in. I was followed home in a full spy-movie run by suspicious cars. Got home, caught my breath, and when Air Force spygirl came in, she asked, "What's with you?" "Nothing," I replied, as I pecked on the other one's IMB SELECTRIC.

A few months later, after USAF girl had moved out, she asked if I was going home. When I replied in the affirmative, she simply said, "Good luck, Bill," and I watched her walk all the way up the block, because I knew she had tried to get me killed, but did not know why. You wanna be a spy when you grow up, kids? That image of the woman walking to her little fake eyecare professional job is etched in my head forever, and all you idiots in California can do is rattle keys while I wrote this sentence. What does that mean?

It means you are delusional, I am sane, I am a normal heterosexual guy, and no one ought to be envious of me, unless, of course, you are a kook. KOOK-LA-LAND, it is time for me to get a better job and work for a paycheck, as I always have. Movie director sounds good, as a transition period to running for president. And, if I get that job, there will be surprising similarities with Mr. Bush (#43), because I will want you creeps, "Dead or Alive," and quite frankly, in that position, I'd rather send you all to hell, where you belong.